Lapse of insanity
by Sakura-Revolution
Summary: Severus Snape finds solace in a most unexpected person Update! Voldemort has a monolouge too!
1. Severus Snape

The night is young, my heart is jumping in my chest and I can hear footsteps outside on the stairs.

Someone comes up here? Why would anyone come up here? I am nothing that someone would want to see or talk to, not now anyway. All that they will find is me, lying on the floor, too weak to put forth the effort to live, they will see me. Or the shell of what I once was. All of my life I have struggled through, persevered, fought tooth and nail to keep a grip on the world around me, and now I am alone once again, thrown to the wolves of my own twisted mind. A prisoner of my own body, a captive to the pain that rips through me, so vivid that I awake, screaming. But no one ever hears, so whose foot falls are outside my door? The knob turns slightly, but the door does not open, I am suddenly wondering, what will they see when they walk in. I have not seen myself in years, too afraid of what I may have become to peer into the mirror that hangs on the wall, always turning my head away from it. But now I force my shaking legs to move, force myself to look at the face in the mirror.

It is an ashen, sickly face that hints of the insanity that I fight daily, I don't want someone to see this! I reach to touch the skin, it feels strangely distant, as if a face, not mine but belonging to someone else. It seems that nothing is, as it should be... And I am trapped in a beige, colorless hell of a room, a place so lonely and forgotten that I am tempted to cut myself, if only for the color that I will see with it. I see the door start to open, a figure step inside, he looks younger than me, much younger than me. But the way his eyes inspect the room with a cool, calculating stare tells me that this is a man that knows the world. He turns his eyes on me, they are a nice silver, flecked with a bit of red, he has that bit of color, although that is the only color he has, the rest of him is dramatic blacks and grays. I am worried, and yet fascinated by this dark man. He smiles at me, an expression I have neither seen nor felt in many years. He walks smoothly over towards me and kneels to look at me, not a trace of disgust or pity in his eyes. Slight empathy, but I don't mind it.

"Severus Snape." He whispers, my name on his lips sounds strange to me, no one that I can remember has called me Severus. He reaches out and brushes my hair out of my eyes. His fingers send a slight shiver through me, human contact, after all these years, is a blessing, as if god has looked at me one more time. His skin is soft and cool agasnt my burning cheeks.

"Come with me Severus, you are too valuble to waste away, insane and alone. I will save you if you come with me." He whispers, even fighting the demons, I know him, somehow I know him. His name is not to be spoken, yet how can one who is so gentile be as evil as they say he is? Or do they lie about that, just like they lie about everything else.

"I will." I whisper the first true word I have said in two or three years. He nods and helps me to stand, I am slightly taller than he is, but somehow, this does not allow me to look down at him, he is too... Majestic to be looked down on. Is that the word I am looking for?

"Good... I can make you into something more Severus, just trust me." He swears his voice like silk over water, soft and appealing. I am drawn to his easy way. Somehow, I know that I need protection and that he can provide it. He leads me outside, into moonlight and for the first time, I feel some humanity drain into me. His nearness seems to drive away the pain of living and replace it with an optimism that cannot be taken away. He gently leads me into a car, driven by a Muggle and I know that I have nothing to fear. Even if he knows what I am, I think that he can understand me more than anyone else could. And maybe he can understand the plight, of being a half Dementor. 


	2. Our Imortal Lord

Thomas Marvolo, or Lord Voldemort as he was now, gave a shiver and sat up. His entire body had gone cold again. He stumbled weakly out of bed, yanking his blanket out and wrapping himself in it securely. His hair, which had had grown long from the day his father died had returned with his body, and it now hung around him, tangled from his unrestful slumber. Outside the rain whipped onto his windows, and the room was cold. But that was not the reason he trembled, not even close. He paced his room, his bare feet soaking up the chill from the floor. His mind wandered, but it always came back to him. Voldemort ran his hand over a full leanth mirror, and on a whim dropped the blanket, leaning forward to inspect himself. He was not a large man and thanks to his self-imersment in the dark arts, his body was frozen in the age nineteen. He was slender, pale and in am light, effeminate. He did not appear intimidating until you looked deep into his eyes and saw...  
And saw what? That he was soulless? Voldemort turned away at this thought. but yet he knew it was true... he had no real soul. but that was not the result of any spell, any potion... any sin. he had lost his human soul on night, a night that his body had been... hot. He had been on fire... and he had been with him, his body burning under his fingers, and his mouth had been firm on his own. TThen it had happenedm under the kiss his body went cold, and something passed between them, then he had crumpled to the bed, his eyes wide and glazed. Severus had shaken him, yelled to him and then had dropped him, knowing what had happened. Then he cried. The tears had been so cold on Voldemort's body that he had sat up. He felt a little strange... but alive... and as sane as he had ever been. Severus had gathered him, and they spent the rest of the night clutching each other.  
They both had known that a love between a human (human? was he ever actually human?) and a half-dementor may someday end that way... but it hadn't ended... the loss of a soul had not affected Voldemort as deeply as one might expect. he was still able to feel, to love and able to be hurt. but the main diffrence was the feeling of streanth... never agian did he fear anyone. And that loss of fear caused him to lead a rebellation aganst the muggles... and the mudbloods. he had moved carefully at first, severus had helped him choose those who would be forever faithful... Lucius Malfoy had been the first. The two had been so close in school, and Lucius had his own grudge aganst those who were not pure. he had come of his own will... along with his two best friends, who were about as smart as a dog... but fierce in their loyalties. A few more and Voldemort was ready to tell these few the secret that no one in the ministrey ever guessed.... that should he ever fall... and he knew that someday he might... that they were to assume the innocent's position, and serve their cause in secret.  
This was an important thing... because he knew that now his soul rested in Severus, he was immortal... as long as Severus lived. And love was truely the greatest preservation. So if they could lay low... he could live again... And as he died in the Potter's house... in search of the child that he had lost with Severus... he had been sure that Severus, who after Voldemort became more comfortable alone had lain low to protect their son, would soon bring him back... then he hadn't.  
That had hurt voldemort more than anything... and after years he thought his love had turned to hate.... but it hadn't... he still loved Severus dearly and now...standing naked and cold, he realized it. this cut into him like a knife, and sinking down onto his knees, he started to freely cry. 


End file.
